ET
by The lunatic who cares
Summary: Slash. Crack. Pole-dancing. Kyle wished his art paid for everything in his life, but until it did, he had to earn a little extra...


**Title: **E.T.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own any DC character (which the world as a whole may be very grateful for) nor do I take credit for Katy Perry's E.T. lyrics I've shamlessly used.  
><strong>Notes:<strong> Many thanks to my beta. She can be blamed for this bunny when she pointed out E.T. was a perfect song for J'onn/Kyle. In utter fairness, I did 'make' her draw a picture to match this fic, which can be found here - http: / / xra e- asa kurax.d eviantart .com/ar t/Read y-For- Abduc tion-21 015 7177 DatingWally can be thanked for getting me hooked on this cracktastic, beautiful pairing.

xxx

Kyle wished his art paid for everything in his life, but he was just starting out and getting recognised was always the tough part. He'd keep persevering, but in the mean time it meant he needed another job and this was the best paid one he'd managed to keep for more than a week. It hadn't been… pleasant to begin with, but Kyle had gotten over the aspects of the work that he didn't like as soon as he realised that the tips could out strip his pay if he performed well.

"Hey, newbie! You're up!" a rough male voice yelled and Kyle checked his clothes one more time before he pushed out from the tiny room that was his and strolled up the corridor towards the public rooms out front. He could already hear the thudding bass in the back, private area, but as he drew closer to the source the young man could feel it in his very core.

"Aaron's running the show tonight," Kyle noted amicably to the guy that had shouted for him.

The towering mountain of a man grinned at him crookedly. "He's gonna make you work for it tonight, newbie."

"Always does."

Kyle selected a mask from the display next to the door, sliding it down over his face so it cast shadows over his eyes and framed his mouth, before he stepped out into the club. The place was packed, as usual, and the young man quickly weaved his way through the crowd, carefully avoiding eye contact with any dancers on the floor until he came to an unclaimed pedestal. Kyle gracefully jumped up onto it, hand reaching out for the pole that rose from its centre as he did so, swinging himself around it with ease.

His entrance to the empty podium had already drawn eyes, but Kyle did his best to ignore them as he listened to the music, getting a feel for the beat. Aaron always played music with a heavy, thudding bass, claiming it gave the dancers something to work with. In reality it made them all work harder to stay in time with rhythm. Slip ups were more noticeable.

The dark haired man started out simply, warming his body up; a few moves around the podium, brushing up against the metal pole, arching away, until he lost himself in the music enough to dance without feeling self conscious. He'd learnt to shut that part of himself away early on, taking cues from the other dancers here. Kyle was only one man amongst many other men and women here and that made it easier not to be the centre of absolute attention.

When the next song hit its peak Kyle curved his hands over his head to grip the shaft, resting one shoulder against the pole before he kicked his feet outwards. Kyle pulled with his arms and upper body as he did so, flipping himself upside down to curl his legs around the pole above his body. The lithe man then pushed up from the pole in a mock press up, curving his head right back towards his legs before undulating his body sensually to climb the pole backwards. Then he slowly let himself slid down the pole until his hands touched the floor and Kyle used yet more upper body strength to kick up off the pole into a handstand, one leg still curled around the pole to hold the pose.

A dollar bill, folded in half flicked into his vision and Kyle dropped himself onto the floor of the podium so he was closer to the person offering him the tip. The edge of the note was sharp, crisp, and it scrapped his skin slightly as the man tucked it into the waist band of his black leather pants. Kyle rolled back to the pole, all in perfect synch to the music, and continued dancing, though his time he let his eyes wander across the people in the club.

The main floor was given over to dancing space, with several bars running the length of various walls. In between them were little clusters of tables, chairs and loungers. Most people were in groups or couples so Kyle easily spotted the man sitting alone at a small table not far from him. There was a glass on the table, contents clearly untouched, even though the man's hand was right next to it. Kyle didn't know what kept drawing his eyes back to that man; he just looked so out of place and foreign. Average brown hair, average length, average features. In fact he was so average it made him stand out to Kyle and the next time he spun around the pole, stopping facing this lone stranger, their eyes met and locked; brown to green. A shiver slammed down Kyle's spine.

The young man yanked his gaze, still dancing, but he couldn't help looking at the man every time he spun that way. He was almost hypnotising, just sitting there, _watching_ him. Kyle's breath caught in his throat and he swallowed it down. Normally he did everything to not think about being watched, but now he couldn't get it out of his head.

_'Dance for me Kyle.'_

He could have sworn the words echoed in his head, coming from the music all around him. The black haired man swung his gaze back around to the stranger at the table and thought he saw a smile. He had to turn his back for a minute, fighting with his expression, but he could swear he could feel those brown eyes running down the length of his body.

Aaron blended the next song into the ending of the one just finishing and Kyle felt the beat thud through him. Some sort of resistance in him broke and for the first time the young man didn't feel ashamed that he earned the money he needed by pole dancing. He let himself feel the music, hips dancing to it, pushing forwards to graze the pole between his legs. Kyle always did routines that involved strength, athleticism; showy moves that hid the fact that he wasn't pulling deliberately sexy moves but now…

_You're so hypnotizing.  
><em>_Could you be the devil?  
><em>_Could you be an angel?  
><em>_Your touch magnetizing.  
><em>_Feels like I am floating.  
><em>_Leaves my body glowing._

The young man arched around the pole, swinging on one foot by its base, eyes flicking up to catch the single man's gaze and then up the length of the metal in front of him. He jumped off the floor, hands grasping the pole above his head and pulled himself up to spin around the pole, feet well clear of the podium. Kyle then swung both legs up above his head into a split that he knew highlighted every curve of his ass and crotch in the flashing lights of the club. He deliberately pressed his groin in as close as he could get it to the pole, feeling the metal through the soft leather.

_You're from a whole other world.  
><em>_A different dimension.  
><em>_You open my eyes  
><em>_And I'm ready to go.  
><em>_Lead me into the light._

Still spinning around he lowered himself until he was horizontally parallel with the pole, legs spread. Sweat glistened on his skin and Kyle had never felt so alive. He dropped himself back down to floor, before he undulated his whole body against the pole, arching his back as far as he could go, thrusting his hips forwards. More notes were being held out for him so he split his legs either side of the pole and dropped to the floor. One leg the dark haired man flicked upwards to push up from the pole, rolling over backwards so his lower half ended up right on the edge of the platform.

Several pairs of hands landed on him, touching him more than was necessary to push the bills into this trousers. Before this had always been the bit that had made Kyle's skin crawl, but now he just raised his green eyes to find that man again, to see if this made him watch intently. Did it make him jealous? His breath caught in his throat. The man was standing at his podium now, brown eyes fixed on him possessively.

_Kiss me, ki-ki-kiss me.  
><em>_Infect me with your love and  
><em>_Fill me with your poison.  
><em>_Take me, ta-ta-take me.  
><em>_Wanna be your victim.  
><em>_Ready for abduction._

Kyle crawled around the podium, keeping his moves low, deliberate. He ignored the other hands grabbing at his ass as he passed the other watchers. His gaze was locked with the man's who seemed to be able to see right through the shadows the mask cast over his eyes and Kyle wondered what his hands would feel like on his skin.

Once right in front of this over-average man the young dancer rose to his knees, legs parted to either side of his watcher, pushing his body in close enough to feel the body heat before arching away teasingly. The brown haired man pulled a folded note out of his pocket, running it through his fingers, returning the gesture and Kyle knew he'd have to work for this tip. Not one single bit of him minded.

Kyle ran his hands up his body, from thighs to shoulders, feeling the slickness of sweat under them. He pushed one hand up into his hair as he arched his body upwards as the other ran back down again, fingers grazing his groin, highlighting what couldn't be hidden in tight leathers. The dark haired man quickly switched his body round, giving the man his back, which he pressed to his chest before pulling away. Kyle gyrated his hips, making sure to just touch the man's own hips with his ass as he did so and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath and two hands landing on his sides.

_Boy, you're an alien.  
><em>_Your touch so foreign.  
><em>_It's supernatural.  
><em>_Extraterrestrial._

Fingers pressed in tight enough to make Kyle aware that they were there, but not enough to impede his movements. He could feel hot bursts of air over his neck as those hands moved, fingers tracing the edges of his pants. There was that sharp scratch of a bill on his skin again, but this time it was more deliberate, running down the fine line of hairs tracing his pale skin from navel into his leathers. Fingers pushed down under the waistband, the pretence of tipping him there, but they lingered too long, went too far to be innocent. Kyle felt his dick twitch and let out a little groan, knowing only his 'tipper' would hear him.

The man flattened his hands across Kyle belly, letting him dance under them as he slid them up his body, brushing nipples, making Kyle arch into his hands again, until they slid into his hair. His grip tightened for a moment, just enough to highlight how strong he was and it sent shivers down Kyle's spine, but he let the black hair go when Kyle pulled forward. As much as he wanted to stay there, he'd get into trouble for dancing for only one customer when there were others watching them.

_You're so supersonic.  
><em>_Wanna feel your powers.  
><em>_Stun me with your lasers.  
><em>_Your kiss is cosmic.  
><em>_Every move is magic._

Kyle moved back to the pole, getting straight back into his routine, trying to banish the memory of hands on his body, breath on his skin. He pulled himself back up, setting himself spinning fast before he inverted his body, curling one leg around the pole and dropping his back down against the pole, letting go with his hands entirely. As he spun down the pole Kyle brought his legs together into a pike position, pole between them, and his upper body up towards them, folding himself in half. Only as he left that display of flexibility did his hands go back on the metal pole; one above, one below his body so he could straighten himself out into a perfect line, never losing his rhythm.

After a moment he flipped himself over so he was facing the ceiling, not the floor, curled his legs up the pole, bracing his hands beneath him, level with the small of his back and spun himself faster, showing off a little. Kyle slowed down as he split his legs and then lowered them forwards so his back was nearly at ninety degrees to the pole, hands still above his head. He held that, hearing the whistles and calls of amazement, before pulled his legs back up again.

_Kiss me, ki-ki-kiss me.  
><em>_Infect me with your love and  
><em>_Fill me with your poison.  
><em>_Take me, ta-ta-take me.  
><em>_Wanna be your victim.  
><em>_Ready for abduction._

There was no way Kyle could avoid seeing the man every time he spun round. He was still there, still watching his every move and the young man knew he was going to have to call a break after this song. Pretend he needed a bathroom break, but he had to calm himself down and hope _he_ left, because he was going to break rules tonight otherwise. He could hear the song was winding down, hear the next one being blended in to it and timed it to collect the last of the tips from the other people crowding his podium before he left.

_Boy, you're an alien.  
><em>_Your touch so foreign.  
><em>_It's supernatural.  
><em>_Extraterrestrial._

Kyle expected the man to try to stop him, to talk to him, to touch him, but all he did was smile at him. It was broad and pleased, but not creepy. It made Kyle smile back before he melted into the crowd, heading back to the corridor that led to the dancer's private rooms. He gave the guard a passing grin as he took off his mask, hanging it back up on his way back to his room. The young man squeezed back into his room, sat down with a thump, and began pulling the tips out of his pants, counting them as he did so. The last one to come out was the one dead front and centre.

"Holy…" Kyle swore as he unfolded the hundred dollar bill. No one ever tipped that much. He held it up to the light to check it was real and realised something was written on the other side. Kyle flipped it over and found a phone number. "The sneaky bastard," he grinned. Looks like he didn't have to break the club's rules after all.


End file.
